Chapter 5: Homesteading

Over the next few days, the Borealans split off into small groups, each choosing a location for their log cabins, clustered vaguely around the longhouse. They used similar methods as they had used to build the original structure, albeit the going was much faster on such a smaller scale. There seemed to be no real organization, the Borealans milled about, helping where they felt it was appropriate. It wasn’t uncommon to see one member of the pack working on a log wall in the morning, only to find that someone had taken his place later in the afternoon, and he was now lining a roof with bark on the other side of the growing village.

Dennis couldn’t provide much help, being too short and weak to carry armfuls of logs or leap up onto rafters, but he stripped bark, and help prepare food, the whole affair was oddly emergent. Ursi didn’t do much work herself, mostly supervising the construction of her own cabin, it was situated directly beside the longhouse and was of an impressive size compared to many of the others.

When he couldn’t help with construction, Dennis worked on the flag design, using an image editor on Ursi’s tablet computer to experiment with shapes and colors, trying to think of something that would properly represent the new republic and its people.

The Borealans had a massive store of meat and furs now, a new hunting party ventured out at least every other day, and each night another feast was held. None quite as extravagant as the first, but the Borealans ate an incredible volume of meat to sustain themselves. Ursi was indulging a little too much, perhaps bored, or maybe enjoying her leisure time. Her already substantial bust now strained against the thin fabric of her clothing that kept it in check, and the subtle paunch of her belly was now protruding conspicuously over her waistline. She carried the weight well, her feminine figure distributing it to her hips, ass and chest, but it couldn’t be healthy for her.

Ursi was sat at one of the plastic tables, the gaudy, yellow stool she was sitting creaking under her considerable weight. Her carpenters had begun to carve real, wooden furniture now that they had surfaces to work on, but replacing the furnishings in the longhouse was not a priority. The stools and tables they were making were for the private cabins, and the Borealans would make do with the plastic furnishings the Russians had provided for the time being.

She hooked a slab of mutton in her claws and dragged it across the surface of the table, leaving a trail of juice in its wake. Ursi demolished the huge mass of dripping meat, staining her fur with its oils, then leaned on the table, taking a drag from her long pipe, the fragrant smoke rising in the warm air.

“You know Ursi, you should really start to moderate what you eat. This isn’t Borealis, you’re not burning calories just walking around, and the climate here is a lot warmer.”

He leaned back in his seat, appraising her butt, tight and shapely against her clothing, overflowing over the edge of her stool. She caught him looking and smirked, jiggling in her seat.

“Borealans are a hardy people Dennis, it is not unhealthy for us to become fat, besides...” She leaned closer and whispered suggestively.” You can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself.”

“Be that as it may,” he muttered, loosening his collar conspicuously as her massive breasts rested on the edge of the table, deforming as their weight spread, “you should at least lay off the fast food. It might feel small and light to a Borealan, but humans pack their foods with fat and salt, I don’t think you appreciate how unhealthy it is.”

Ursi eyed him skeptically, cleaning juice off her furry fingers with her textured tongue.

“Come now Dennis, you worry too much. I am perfectly capable of managing my health, and my eating habits.”

The Russians had delivered the first shipment of the gravity sickness medication by cargo shuttle, it would strengthen their bones, help prevent muscle atrophy, lower their blood pressure, and deal with many of the odd ailments that afflicted those who lived in lower gravity than for which they had evolved. People living on Mars and Luna had done so for generations with few ill effects once a medical solution had been found. Along with the medical supplies, they had delivered more food upon request from Ursi. Dennis had seen no harm in Ursi sampling more human dishes and exploring alien cuisine, he had done as much on his trip to Borealis, however her request had eventually been revealed to be an entire crate of cheeseburgers. She had taken a liking to them after the celebratory feast, and he now somewhat regretted introducing her to junk food.

They were small enough compared to her exaggerated height that she treated them as snacks, and not as the calorie bombs that they were. At least she would run out eventually, and then he might be able to prevent her from acquiring more. Borealans ate when they were hungry, until they were full. It was unlikely to ever become a problem in the high gravity of Borealis, when Dennis had visited he had never seen an obese Borealan, they were all built like Olympians and champion weight lifters, simply walking on Borealis incurred a cost in calories and built muscle mass. Even though Ursi was gaining weight, her underlying muscles were still incredibly powerful, and would probably remain so for years until the muscle atrophy caught up with her.

It only took a few more days for their cabin to be completed, it was small and rustic compared to Ursi’s vacation home in Elysia, but it was cozy, and as he and Ursi closed the door behind them, he felt as if he were truly alone with her for the first time in a while. The log cabin had a single floor, but several rooms, and was spacious compared to most of the dwellings the pack were erecting. The longhouse served as a dining room and a place for the Borealans to congregate and interact, so there was no food preparation area in the cabin, no dining area, and no place where one might entertain guests. It was mostly just a living space and a bedroom. Dennis peeked his head around the corner and was delighted to see a single, massive bed carved from wood, piled with pillows, blankets and furs in the way that Ursi preferred. They would be sharing a bed, in private, for the foreseeable future. In the middle of the main living area was a traditional fire, ringed with stones and smoking lazily through a small hole in the roof, the relatively small space was warmed easily by the dancing flames.

Dennis was beside himself, the unexpected sense of wellbeing and happiness almost overcame him as he realized they had a home together now. As a lowly attorney operating out of a law firm, before he went to Borealis he had mostly been confined to either an office cubicle in one of the towering skyscrapers that brutalized the skyline of Earth’s sprawling cities, or his apartment, similarly located many floors above the ground in a minute, cramped space that even a sardine would complain was too confining. His job had never allowed for a serious relationship, cohabitation required a time consuming, expensive process of courting and entertaining, along with the means to actually afford a space in which two people could reasonably live. Coupled with his lack of success with women, he had never lived with another person since graduating law school.

“What has you so happy, Dennis?” Ursi eyed him curiously, and he realized he was beaming. He quickly composed himself, straightening his spider fur tie and forcing a more casual expression.

“It’s nothing, just ... I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“A cabin?”

“In a way. Earth has somewhat of a housing problem, and the job I had made courtship difficult. Even if we don’t admit it, what we all want deep down is just to live in a simple home with a loved one. I’ve never had that before, and I didn’t really expect to ever have it.”

“It is a little unusual for me too, I am constantly surrounded by aides, guards and ... concubines. Borealans do not court the way humans do, two individuals pairing exclusively is uncommon, though not unheard of. Most reproduction takes place in the context of dominance battles, where the losing party is forcibly copulated with in order to spread dominant genes. Mutual relationships where both parties are of equal standing is essentially impossible in our society, though a Borealan might take a liking to one underling above all others.”

She scratched her furry chin, thinking as she stared into the fire.

“Humans are odd though, anomalous. We cannot use violence to subdue you, you are too fragile, and so the only option left in order to assert authority is sex. Humans rarely submit, and if they do it is not for long, leaving the relationship between a human and a Borealan in a constant state of limbo, neither can fully assert dominance over the other, though the desire to do so rages as strongly as ever.”

She leered at him, like one might eye a tasty treat before partaking.

“Polars are a little more placid than our equatorial cousins, but humans must drive them to fits of lust.” She chuckled to herself, obviously imagining one such scene in her head.

“It’s true,” he confirmed, starting to blush a little as memories of Xhe, Cola and Chaka played in his head, “I’ve been on the receiving end.”

Ursi ruffled his hair with her fuzzy palm.

“Poor creature, though judging by your temperament I doubt you found it entirely unpleasant.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean,” he replied indignantly, crossing his arms and shooting her an angry look. He was aware that he was overcompensating, and she surely was too. Her sultry gaze confirmed his suspicion, and she leaned down to whisper in his ear, wrapping him in her arms and pulling him closer.

“You love it when I bite you, I can feel your body relax as it gives in to me.”

She pinched his ear in her teeth, as if to prove a point, and he shivered, his face reddening as she dragged her rough tongue across his neck, and smirked.

“You should admit to it, embrace it. It would feel good...”

She released him abruptly, his erection pressing uncomfortably against his pants.

“But no time for that now, come back with me to the longhouse, I am hungry.”

He trailed after her, wiping his brow with his sleeve and trying to banish the salacious thoughts that swirled in his mind.

Ursi chewed happily, wolfing down another burger, her supply showing no signs of diminishing. She licked the grease from her fingers, then raised a sheep femur, cracking the bone with her powerful jaws and sucking out the marrow noisily. The aliens had an enormous bite strength, the bones of Earth animals barely slowed them down in their endless pursuit of sustenance. Dennis sat beside her, eating a more modest portion of the jerked moose meat. The light, gossamer fabric that constituted her clothing, immodest at the best of times, was at breaking point. The flesh of her soft, heavy breasts protruded over the straps that strained to hold them aloft, and her ass was becoming more than her clothes could contain, he could practically hear the creak as she moved. Her hips and legs were thick and inviting, just looking at her meaty thighs made him want to press his face between them. On a human, the amount of weight she had put on would be unpleasant, but somehow on Ursi it all went to the right places, Dennis found it hard to complain when the features that so attracted him to her were only growing in size. Perhaps they stored fat differently to humans, maybe it was entirely unintentional, but the signs of her fertility tickled his simian brain in a way that he found ceaselessly distracting.

“You’re popping out of your clothes, Ursi,” Dennis insisted, waving a piece of jerked moose as he spoke. “I’m telling you, you have to slow down, you can’t just eat until you’re full on Earth, those extra calories aren’t going anywhere. You have to change your habits to suit your new environment.”

“Dennis your complaints bore me, your attraction to me is obvious, and at times blatant, such as right now, you are staring at my bust.” He reddened and averted his gaze. “I don’t mind, in fact I quite enjoy the idea that you are in a constant state of arousal around me, it makes you more ... available.”

She cracked another bone loudly, picking at her teeth with her claw. The table was littered with the styrofoam containers of the burgers, splintered bone, juice from the cooked meats, and stray flecks of blood. The Borealans were nothing if not messy eaters. It seemed that besides work and sex, feasting was the only interest they really had.

Ursi uncorked a bottle of ‘raises the hair’, taking a draw of the pink liquid, then gasping happily, wiping her mouth with the back of her furry arm. She hooked it around Dennis’ head and pulled him into her bust, pressing his face into the malleable fat of her breasts as they threatened to spill from her clothes.

“What say you, me, and this bottle retreat back to our new residence and see if we cannot break the bed frame that was so carefully crafted for us?”

She knew that he couldn’t say no, the question was almost a formality. She grinned at his expression, lifting him from his stool and placing him on the dirt floor of the longhouse. She dropped down heavily to join him, the plastic creaking as her weight left it.

“Despite the low gravity, I find that my shoulders hurt. Perhaps your complaints have some merit, use your agile little fingers and make me feel better.”

She tugged him by the hand and led him out of the longhouse, and back to their newly completed cabin.

Dennis sat on the tall bed, and Ursi sat on the floor in front of him, her head still level with his, and he delved his hands into the silky fur and pliant, insulating fat of her shoulders. She shrugged and shivered, enjoying the sensation of his fingers pushing into her flesh and seeking out the muscle beneath. He used his thumbs to press deeper, easing out the knots in her brawn. She groaned, leaning back into him.

“Oh, you’re so much better at that than a Borealan, Dennis. No claws to get in the way.”

She took a swig of her bottle, and slipped out of the straps that restrained her breasts. They fell weightily, even larger than they had been when he had met her, and Ursi had already been on the bigger end of the spectrum as far as Borealans were concerned.

“Ah, that’s better,” she sighed, rolling her shoulders and relaxing. It didn’t take much to make a Borealan tipsy, and Ursi was getting there quickly, her bottle already half empty.

“It’s so strange,” she mused, purring contentedly as Dennis moved his hands down her back, tracing the line of her spine and massaging her taut muscles. “I was always so busy on the homeworld, always doing something...” She slurred her words a little, the alcohol getting to her. “But now that everything is done, what is there for me to do?”

“Well you still have to govern your people, probably negotiate with the Russians, meet with the UN representatives eventually.”

“It will take months, years for enough of my people to make it to Earth to constitute a real territory, for now we’re just a settlement. Everyone knows what to do, they are hardy children of Borealis, they don’t need me right now...”

“You’re their Queen, their Alpha, they will never stop needing you, Ursi.”

She drank again, the pink colored liquid sliding down her throat, was she trying to get drunk?

“Dennis, you will still love me if I grow fat, will you not?” She blurted it abruptly, holding the protruding paunch of her belly in her free hand and gazing down at it miserably.

He brought his hands up to her head and scratched her scalp through her mane of long, snow-white hair, she shuddered and crooned happily, and he realized that he rarely saw the top of her head, she was just too damned tall.

“I’ll still love you no matter how old or fat you get, how about that?”

“You don’t even know how long we live for,” she chuckled, finishing off her bottle and rolling the empty vessel away along the wooden floorboards. “But I will hold you to your promise.”

She turned to face him, her massive head moving to nuzzle his neck. He shivered as he felt her cool nose on his skin, then began to blush as her nuzzling became kissing, then gentle biting. Her fluffy palm rose to his cheek, holding him steady as her sharp teeth, which he had seen shatter bone, pressed against his vulnerable throat, gently, tentatively. The rough surface of her tongue scoured him, tasting, teasing as it played over his warming skin.

“Dennis,” she whispered, her warm breath blowing over his ear, “you’ll entertain me, won’t you? You’ll keep me from becoming bored?”

She slid her furry hand under his shirt, and ran her fingers down his chest to his belly, the stark contrast of the silky fur and the prickling claws making his gasp. She chuckled under her breath, enjoying his reaction.

“Today I’m feeling ... predatory. Will you indulge me?”

Without waiting for an answer she bit his shoulder, just hard enough to make him wince, then licked the red mark apologetically.

“In all the time we have been together, I don’t recall ever using my mouth on you, would you like that?” She moved her head lower, her puffy lips an inch away from the bulge that was growing beneath his clothes. She looked up at him with her reflective, blue eyes, smirking and waiting patiently. “You have to ask for it, Dennis.”

“Yes, I mean ... I want you to...”

“Good boy,” she chuckled, undoing his belt and pulling down his pants. His member bounced free, jumping in the air in time with his pounding heart as she breathed warm air on the tip. She moved in slowly, teasing him, and he shuddered as he waited for contact. Finally her soft lips pressed against his glans, lightly planting a kiss on the tip. Dennis flexed and his erection jumped, Ursi chuckled again, a low purring that reverberated through the room, and stroked his balls with her downy hand. Her fine hairs tickled the sensitive skin and he shivered, gasping as she withdrew her hand, watching his reaction with amusement.

“We have a proverb on Borealis, ‘you cannot rush an ambush’, it means that you must wait for some things to happen, you cannot hasten them.”

The tip of her long, rough tongue snaked out of her mouth and coiled around his glans and beneath his foreskin, her warm, viscous saliva coating the tender flesh and dripping wetly to the floor in glistening strings. He bit his lip, the tiny papillae on the surface of her organ raking his head, then she withdrew again, a rope of saliva linking her soft lips to his member. She licked them before her tongue coiled back into her mouth, then gazed at him, examining him as his breath became ragged and his excitement mounted.

Was this some kind of game? A test? He remained stoic, resisting the overwhelming urge to simply grab her by the ears and force his member down her slippery gullet.

He whined as she cradled his balls in her downy hand, squeezing gently, then kissed his shaft, her lips pressing against the side, lingering for a moment as he throbbed hopelessly.

“I will make you a deal, Dennis. If you can hold off long enough, I’ll let you come deep in my throat, and I’ll hold you there until you’re spent. But, if you beg me to stop before I’ve had my fun, I’ll cut you off before you finish.”

She leaned in again, taking his shaft in her hand gently, and pressed the surface of her tongue against the sensitive underside of his glans, dragging it slowly, torturously, enjoying the pained groan that escaped his lips as the tiny bumps stimulated him.

“Where are you most sensitive, little human, where are you most vulnerable... ?”

She dragged her claws over his inner thigh, leaving red streaks and making him gasp in surprise. She lowered her head between his legs, and he had to cover his mouth with a trembling hand to muffle a cry as her hot, slick tongue curled around his balls and her pouting lips teased the base of his member. The silky fur on her cheeks tickled his legs and he delved his fingers into her hair, gripping her as if it might somehow help.

She crawled her lips up his shaft, planting slow, hot kisses as she moved, then sucked the glans into her mouth, holding it for a moment, gazing up at him with her sapphire eyes and lapping gently at the precum that oozed from the tip.

Dennis covered his burning face with his hands, peeking through his fingers at her as she laughed at him, the vibrations translating into his member. His legs were going numb, her practiced tongue tormented him, it was almost unbearable. His lower lip began to tremble and Ursi eyed him eagerly, expecting a plea of mercy, but he composed himself, biting a finger instead.

She put a hand on his chest, pushing him into a prone position on the bed as his member left her warm mouth to pulse and ache in the comparatively cold air. She lifted her massive breasts, the flesh deforming and spilling over her hands as she raised the weighty globes over his waist. She dropped them heavily, like two bags of sand, the impact was strong enough to hurt his hips and push him deeper into the mattress. She pressed them around his cock, burying it in twin mountains of soft, furry breast meat. They were so large that despite being reasonably well endowed, his member was completely submerged in her bust. Her fat was impossibly soft, and her velvet fur tickled his skin, as she squeezed her mammoth breasts together, the yielding fat gave way to firm tissue.

“You are always looking at them, you think I don’t notice, but I do. Do you really like them so much? Have you wanted to do this for a long time?”

She began to raise them, struggling to find a grip in the supple flesh, then dropped them back down heavily, keeping his shaft squashed between them. The sheer size of her bust made it a little awkward and clumsy, but Ursi was grinning, enjoying herself and the effect she was having on Dennis. His precum and her thick saliva matted her silky fur, and he bucked and writhed as the warm, soft, and now wet cleavage enveloped him. She found a rhythm, sliding her breasts up and down his shaft, the impact nearly bruising his hips as she let her heavy breasts fall. It was not as intense as the cruel barbs of her feline tongue, but she was entirely right, he ‘did’ like them, her heavy bosom was always a distraction to him, now moreso that it had started to spill from her clothing like so much bread rising from a pan. She lifted her breasts again, her downy, damp fur teasing his glans, then dropped them, looking up at him with her reflective, blue eyes and smirking as his eyelids fluttered. He thrusted instinctively, driving his member deeper in search of further stimulation, and noticing his reflexive bucking she slowed and held her breasts steady, allowing him to fuck them.